Details |
Hilola Eshimova Poem
Fiasco
Burnt down, fatigued, no feelings left,
So devastated, world means no heft
I am not a phoenix to rise from ashes
Soul does not let receive new lashes.
I am plagued with tortures of ill fate
Downbeat and broken, it is time to rate
My noble deeds and even wicked
My Lord, I beg, don’t be too strict!
Would love to live a century more,
But locked for me the main door
I knocked at it ten thousand times
Then I came back with all that grime.
Copyright © Hilola Eshimova | Year Posted 2012
|